


Children, Inc.

by Glaciere



Category: Johnny's Entertainment
Genre: Babysitting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-12
Updated: 2013-05-12
Packaged: 2017-12-11 16:21:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/800705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glaciere/pseuds/Glaciere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Never let it be said Hideaki doesn't know how to manage children.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Children, Inc.

**Author's Note:**

> Fair warning: this fic is absolutely, 100% gratuitous kidfic. I just wanted to write Takizawa babysitting the kids, so there's not going to be any plot whatsoever. 
> 
> There are, hovewer, going to be quite a lot of Disney characters involved.

Hideaki doesn’t know what wakes him up first - the sound of someone knocking on the bedroom’s door or a simultaneous kick to the shins from a cocoon of blankets near him that is Tsubasa.

“Can I come in?”

“Can I say no?” he asks, too quiet for it to be an answer. A look at the clock tells Hideaki it’s barely past six, an ungodly hour at any day, but especially so on Hideaki’s only day off in nearly a month. November’s always a busy month; budgets need to be approved, scripts written, next year’s projects lined up - but this year is even more insane than others. 

His sister opens the door, but lingers in the doorway. Hideaki can’t for the life of him remember why he’d given her the keys to his part of the house. His family doesn’t use the doorbell, because it requires them to use the other entrance and the elevator, but mostly they stay out of Hideaki’s space.

“I have a favor to ask,” Yaeko says, reaching up to twist the ends of her short hair between her fingers. “I was supposed to look after the kids today, but I got a call from the baby’s kindergarten. Mothers’ Committee, actually Yamazaki-san, called a meeting today - they think there’s been an outbreak of some sort, maybe stomach flu? And Sora has already made plans.”

Hideaki, nearly lulled back to sleep by the usual talk about inane inner workings of Natsuki’s kindergarten PTA, startles back at the sound of Tsubasa’s sister’s name. Just out of spite he wants to tell Yaeko to call Seiichi, but as far as he remembers, today is Friday. Chances are, his brother’s going to be working late.

“I’ll take Natsuki with me, so it’s just Miyabi-chan and Hayato,” Yaeko says as if it’s in any way reassuring and then resorts to emotional blackmail. “They told me you’ve promised to take them to Disneyland.”

Hideaki looks at her incredulously, then tugs at the covers to unwrap Tsubasa. His only accomplishment is that Tsubasa rolls over to shoot a hateful look right into his face.

“She’s your niece, you go entertain her,” Hideaki says. 

Tsubasa snorts. “She can be yours before dawn.” The fact that they both understand the reference makes them smile at each other and possibly speaks a lot about the amount of times they’ve been forced (in Tsubasa’s case, though Hideaki is sure all his protests are at least half for show) to watch Disney movies.

Hideaki turns to find out his sister’s already left, leaving the door open. The slightly chilly November air makes Hideaki shiver, and he contemplates sliding under the covers again, settling against Tsubasa’s warm chest.

“No,” Tsubasa says, reading his mind, and wraps the covers around himself, tighter this time. “I have to get up in two hours, and you have ice feet. If you give me a cold three days before a concert we’re not fucking for a week.”

“You were lucky,” Hideaki says to Yaeko when he steps into his mother’s kitchen where his sister is preparing breakfast, “that I bothered to get into pants at all last night. Who enters other people’s bedrooms without asking?”

His sister raises her eyebrows at him. “I know what a dick looks like, Hide.” She says, smirking. “And I did knock. And then ask. I figured if everything’s quiet you’re not having sex in there.”

“You are a horrible person,” Hideaki says because he will forever have the eloquence of a five year old when he argues with his siblings. “Where’s Mom? She’s the actual kindergarten teacher in the family.” Zou’s asleep in his bed on the floor, and Hideaki bends down to stroke him between the ears, only making the dog burrow farther away from his reach. “Bastard,” he says, smiling.

Yaeko puts a cup of coffee on the floor beside him and Zou stirs, sniffing the air. “Told me she’s not raising anymore children and went to the - somewhere. With friends, I guess? Maybe she’s secretly plotting to take over the world, I have no idea.”

Hideaki doesn’t answer, because the actual five year old hops onto a kitchen chair. 

“Good morning, Hide-kun!” Miyabi says, politely, and then twists around to look at Hideaki’s nephew with an air of badly masked superiority. “You’re late to breakfast, Hayato.”

“Good morning, Uncle,” Hayato says. He’s six and should be starting school next year; Hideaki vaguely remembers his brother telling him he was thinking about enrolling Hayato into an all-boys academy. “If it’s within ten minutes, it doesn’t count.” Hayato tells Miyabi.

“Why?”

Hayato points a finger. “Yae-nee says so!” 

Yaeko puts plates in front of them and gives Hayato his set of children’s chopsticks. They are bright blue with something red drawn on it. Miyabi gets a fork and a spoon.

“You promised you’d teach me how to use chopsticks,” she tells Hayato.

“You’re too little,” he says. “You don’t need to know this stuff yet.”

Miyabi sighs and looks at Hideaki. “I can’t smack him. Mom says girls don’t smack people.” She sounds so sad about it Hideaki barely stifles a laugh.

Yaeko turns off the stove and ruffles Hayato’s hair. “Sorry, guys, I know I’ve promised you a playdate today, but I have to go do an adult thing. Uncle Hide will take you to Disneyland instead?” she says before they can start to look unhappy. “Okay?”

“Okay!” Miyabi shouts, immediately slaps both of her hands over her mouth. “Sorry,” she mouthes.

After Yaeko’s left and everyone’s eaten their breakfast Hideaki stands up. 

“Are you all set?” It’s a little over eight; if they go now, they can escape the worst of the queues and try enough attractions before the kids will get tired. Hideaki hauls Miyabi up on his forearm, and holds another hand out for Hayato. He refuses. 

“I should’ve worn my most pretty dress,” Miyabi says mournfully. Her hair had gotten longer since Hideaki was last on nanny duty; the end of her ponytail is brushing his cheek.

“You’re very pretty as it is,” Hideaki assures her. Mostly she takes after Sora, but the way she scrunches up her nose when she doesn’t like something, the way she tilts her head and smiles when she does, it’s pure Tsubasa.

“Have you ever been to Disneyland?” Hayato asks on the way to the garage. Yaeko’s family car, a fat monster of vaguely whitish origins, is the only car that has booster seats, and Yaeko is well aware of that, because Hideaki’s Porsche isn’t in its usual spot.

“I have,” Hideaki tells Hayato, hoisting him up to a seat. “We’re going to have a great time.”

Disneyland with kids ends up being a lot more different than Disneyland with friends or by himself. Neither Hayato nor Miyabi are tall enough for most of the rides. They try Alice’s Cups, and the Riverboat, and the Raft, which go over well, and then the Haunted Mansion, with much less success. Hideaki spends half of the ride quietly reassuring Hayato the monsters aren’t real. 

Hideaki buys himself a big Mickey Mouse hat so he’d be less recognizable, although most of the people’s attention is focused on the children. Miyabi gets her own princess crown. She promptly demands that Hideaki wear it after several minutes, which is how he ends up taking purikura pictures with two happy and tired children in Mickey Mouse ears and a tiara.

“When I grow up,” Miyabi says, squirming to get more comfortable on Hideaki’s lap and narrowly missing his nose with a crepe. “I’m going to marry you, Hide-kun.”

For one horrifying moment Hideaki thinks he’s going to die from inhaling his coffee instead of air, but then he coughs and forces out, “Aren’t I a little too old?”

“If you die, I’ll be very sad,” Miyabi agrees and looks at him from behind her lashes, fondly with a side of pity, looking so much like Tsubasa Hideaki laughs and ruffles her hair. 

Hayato huffs from his seat. “You can’t marry Uncle,” he says.

“Why?” Miyabi asks.

“He’s already married to Tsubasa-kun, stupid.”

Hideaki is saved from certain death only by the fact that he’s put his coffee on the bench to tie Miyabi’s hair into a neater ponytail. He stiffens nonetheless. No one seems to be listening, and they are in a more or less remote corner of the park, but Hideaki can feel the muscles in his shoulders and back start to tense and ache. 

“Brother is a boy,” Miyabi points out. “I’m a girl, Hide-kun can marry me too.”

“I will, I will,” Hideaki says. Hayato shoots him a disapproving look straight from Seiichi’s book.

“I will marry you if nobody else wants to,” Hayato tells Miyabi soothingly. 

She narrows her eyes at him. “No way.”

Hideaki’s phone lights up with Akira’s name. He sits Miyabi on a bench and stands up, shaking his legs a little to get them working again.

“Takizawa.”

Akira sighs into his ear. “I’m afraid you’ll have to come in today, Takizawa-kun.”

“Whatever it is, I physically can’t,” Hideaki says. Miyabi pokes Hayato in the shoulder and offers him a bite of her crepe while they’re looking for another ride. They’re tired, but still alert enough for Hideaki to consider taking them to watch the daily parade later on. He checks his watch; the parade is going to start in about an hour. 

Akira is silent for a few moments, and then asks, making Hideaki remember suddenly that the man’s been his manager for a very, very long time, “Are you in a handcuff situation? Should I call Tsubasa-kun?” The unspoken “again” hangs awkwardly in the air. Hideaki is tempted to remind Akira “the handcuff situation” has happened all of exactly once, thank you very much.

“No! No. I’ve got the children with me.”

“There’s a lot of children in the Agency,” Akira tells him. Hideaki can hear a smile in his voice. “We’ll be able to handle a couple more. You really need to finalize the papers today, the theater messed up their budget.” 

Hideaki listens to Akira’s recount of today’s agency most of the way back to Shibuya.

“Are we going home already?” Miyabi asks. “Is it nap time? Mom always lets me stay up when I’m home.”

“Father never makes me nap.” Hayato’s look of smug superiority is reminiscent of Seiichi’s, too. Hideaki hides a smile behind a cough.

“No,” he says. “You guys want to see where I work?”

He sends a message to Yaeko, telling her they’ll be home later than planned, and then to Sora, asking if Miyabi could stay the night. Hayato is at the house for the weekend, and Hideaki really doesn’t mind watching The Little Mermaid again. He can’t see why she’ll refuse, so he sends a message to Tsubasa, too, just rows of crabs and fish and a word “SLEEPOVER” in big sparkly letters.

He starts to hum Ariel’s song and pulls the car to a stop in front of the office building just as the children yell “Burns!” at him. 

Akira is waiting for him in front of the heavy uninviting doors. 

“You took your time,” he says instead of a greeting, frown lines on his forehead deepening momentarily. “The kids can stay with Sanche, the younger Juniors have a lesson today, so he’s in.”

Miyabi tugs on Hideaki’s pant leg. “Hide-kun, brother says not to talk to strangers.”

“Are you Natsuki-san?” Akira asks. He looks kind and sounds kinder, having raised three kids himself. “And you must be Hayato?”

“I’m Shibata Miyabi,” Miyabi tells him. “Natsuki is Hayato’s cousin. I don’t know you.”

“He’s my old friend, Miyabi-chan,” Hideaki says, running his hand over her hair. “I have to go work for a bit, guys, okay? I’ll be back in no time and we’ll go get some ice cream before going home.”

Hayato sighs. “Father always says this,” he grumbles.

“I’m way cooler than your father,” Hideaki points out, snatching Hayato up. “Don’t tell him I said that.”

The last-minute negotiations don’t go particularly well; Hideaki has to snap at several people and produce a new proposal out of thin air in two hours, and he manages to forget about the kids entirely by the time he’s back to his office. 

“Hi,” Tsubasa drawls from his chair, swirling around to greet him. He’s in full costume, black sparkling jacket and silver pants, hair slicked back with sweat. “I seem to remember you taking a day off today.”

Miyabi’s asleep on the couch, with Hayato drawing something on the floor; he barely lifts his head when Hideaki comes in.

“Why are you here? I thought you were at the venue today?” 

“Akira called me to check if I’ve left you handcuffed to bed,” Tsubasa says meaningfully. “And then I got your message and deduced you were going to sleep at the office and feed my niece to the fish.”

Hideaki lets out a startled laugh. “Wow, you’re tired.” He comes closer to kiss Tsubasa and can smell faint traces of smeared foundation. “We can go home, I’m done. You want to watch Ariel’s adventures again?”

“No,” Tsubasa says, but kisses back. 

By the time they make it back the sun has set and Hideaki’s mother is home, raising a judgemental eyebrow at the way Hayato’s telling her he wants to be a dance teacher when he grows up so he can swear at people, because you can do it when you’re a dance teacher. 

“I see,” Hideaki’s mother says wryly. “Your Uncle and I will have words about it.”

It’s too late to start any movies, but Hideaki puts The Little Mermaid DVD on and slides into bed with a sigh. His back hurts. He looks through his emails while Ariel throws longing looks at the Prince’s ship.

Tsubasa nuzzles into his neck. 

“So you’ll never guess what Miyabi told me earlier,” he murmurs into Hideaki’s skin, making it tingle under puffs of hot breath. “Cheater.”

Hideaki laughs. “You promised to marry her like three times last year,” he points out. Tsubasa bites him as a counterpoint, careful not to leave a mark. 

“You are not allowed to marry other people,” Tsubasa says. “You can marry me.”

“I have, sort of,” Hideaki closes his laptop and cracks his fingers. Sebastian the crab is giving a lecture on the cruelty of French chefs from the TV screen.

“You can marry me however many times you like,” Tsubasa says generously.

Hideaki laughs. “No, I’m good, thanks. Living in sin kind of appeals to me.”

Tsubasa hums and flops his hand in the TV’s general direction. It lands on Hideaki’s stomach.

“Spoiler alert, he’s going to kiss the girl. Make that thing go away.”

“You like Ariel,” Hideaki says. 

“I like you more,” Tsubasa tells him, sounding half-asleep. “If you go to sleep I will like you enough for a blowjob. Maybe in the morning.”

Hideaki considers. “I have to be up at six.”

After a pause, Tsubasa says, “Maybe not in the morning.”

“I thought you liked me.”

“I have no idea who told you such a lie,” Tsubasa pulls the cover up a little bit, until it’s almost covering his head. Hideaki schedules the TV to turn itself off in fifteen minutes and watches as the witch turns herself into a human.


End file.
